


Enough

by rachelisnotcool



Category: All For One (Web Series)
Genre: Cuddling, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelisnotcool/pseuds/rachelisnotcool
Summary: A kind of angsty drabble taking place sometime between Connie and Dorothy's big fight and Alex's breakdown. It ends on a hopeful note, I promise.





	Enough

Dorothy and Connie are fighting. Not loudly, or openly, but Dorothy knows that this is what fighting is for them. Connie's been quiet and closed off and is home just as rarely as she was before. Since she no longer works two jobs, Dorothy can draw only one conclusion: Connie is avoiding her.

 

Dorothy, for her part, isn't doing much to end the fighting either. She's too afraid to drive Connie away, the way she thought she did when Connie, frustrated, exhausted, and so, so strung-out, told her she wouldn't change her mind about her parents and stormed out. It hadn't broken them then, but Dorothy's seen more than her fair share of couple fights, and she knows that it's only been postponed. She thinks that might be the worst part: the waiting. She finds herself, sometimes, on her fifth coffee of the day, listening to Anne yell at her, jealous of Anne and Treville. At least, she thinks at these times, they have certainty. They know, undeniably, that it's over and they're bitter enemies. She's forced to endure the in betweens, and in a way, she thinks that's worse.

 

It's 2 AM and Connie still isn't back. She refuses to be alone with her thoughts any longer. Desperately, she clicks on the stream. And then stares blankly at the webcam.

 

_breton: hello?_

_CanonicallyAce: Hi Dorothy! I think you may have turned your camera on by mistake._

 

She clicks the stream off. She can't deal with people right now, even her friends, but she doesn't want to be alone either.

 

She wishes, desperately, that Connie were here. 

 

Connie, who's hilarious and sweet and kind of awkward and goofy but always in an endearing way. Dorothy loves her, loves talking to her, but right now, she wishes they could just be quiet together. It takes a special kind of bond, Dorothy thinks, to just be quiet for hours. To exist in your own space, in your own mind, and to still feel comforted by the other's presence. She misses it a lot. Lately, even when they do share space, the silence is awkward, not comfortable, and she can never tell what Connie's thinking. Connie's good at shutting people out, Dorothy's noticed lately. She even finds herself feeling sorry for Monty, all those months in Kingston, feeling Connie slip away, knowing the end was coming but never quite when. It almost makes her feel less alone. It always evaporates upon seeing Monty, but it's nice while it lasts.

 

Dorothy sighs. She knows she won't get any schoolwork done tonight either. She puts on her pyjamas, pointedly avoiding any MST shirts, and crawls into bed. Her thoughts don't leave her alone there either. She lies there, staring at the top bunk, trying to count sheep.

 

She hears Connie come in about twenty minutes later, doing her best to be quiet. Dorothy figures it's easier for both of them if she just pretends to be asleep and turns on her side, facing the wall. She hears the ladder creak, like Connie's debating climbing it, but feels the mattress dip as Connie climbs into bed. She kind of wants to say something or even to touch her, but she doesn't think she can take being shut out right now.

 

She feels Connie sweep some of her hair off the pillow and lightly kiss the back of her neck.

 

"Hey," Connie says.

 

Dorothy rolls over.

 

"How'd you know I was awake?"

 

"You don't sleep on your side."

 

"Oh."

 

There's that awkward silence again.

 

"You know..." Connie starts, but then trails off.Dorothy wonder if this is it, if she's really going to be dumped in bed at three in the morning. "Can we just... you know..."

 

"What?" Dorothy asks, genuinely confused. She used to feel like she could almost always tell what Connie was thinking, even if she danced around it, and now she almost never does. Does Connie want to talk? To cry? To have sex? She finds herself, oddly, not in the mood. She doesn't want to be a distraction from Connie's parental drama or a method of working out frustrations or a way for Connie to just pretend things are normal. She wants to be a source of Connie's happiness and a life partner and a person with whom Connie discusses serious things. She wants to be her _girlfriend_ , and right now, sex would just feel too much like a shallow imitation.

 

"Can we just cuddle?" Connie says suddenly. "I don't want to fight and I don't want to think about fighting. I just want to be with you. Just, quietly, the way we used to."

 

Dorothy nods. She wraps her arms around Connie, who sighs and puts her head on her chest. She feels Connie mumble something into her chest, but she can't quite catch it. They fall asleep like that.

 

She wakes up to Connie's alarm and a mouthful of her hair and wonders when it got so long. As she reaches over to turn off the alarm, Dorothy realizes that Connie's legs are wrapped around her and that her head is still resting on her chest. 

 

"You have class," she whispers.

 

"Five more minutes," Connie grumbles.

 

"You're like a koala," Dorothy says absentmindedly. Connie doesn't respond, but she doesn't take it personally. She's pretty sure she's already asleep again.

 

Dorothy closes her eyes too. She knows things aren't fixed, that this only a lull or a reprieve or worse, the calm before the storm, but it's a reminder of what she's fighting so hard to hold onto.

 

And for now, that's enough.


End file.
